


Stomping Stereotypes

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale, Established Relationship, First Time, Happy Ending, Jock Derek Hale, Kissing, M/M, Nerd Stiles, POV Derek Hale, Power Bottom Derek Hale, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek and Stiles have been dating for a while, and they've finally decided that they're ready for sex. There's only one tiny issue, and Derek has a little trouble bringing it up...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnoyinglyCute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnoyinglyCute/gifts).



> Written for mah babe [Steph](http://annoyinglycute.tumblr.com/). <3 I'm sorry I made it so much longer than planned!
> 
> Unbetaed but thoroughly edited.

”Come on, come _on_ ,” Stiles says, pulling at Derek's shirt while he's still trying to get it off, effectively trapping it between them as they kiss. But stopping the kissing feels like some kind of crime, so they just... don't, even as Stiles moves them both towards the bed in unsteady steps.

 

”Stiles, could you just- _oomph_.” They land on the bed in a pile, and Stiles laughs with delight, catching Derek with arms and legs, making it even more impossible to actually get undressed. But he gets back to the kissing immediately, so Derek forgives him. Not that he wouldn't forgive Stiles anything and everything anyway.

 

Trying to at least get his feet off the floor means Derek has to squirm around a bit, and accidentally humps right up against Stiles' ass. They're both still wearing jeans, but there's no way to miss how hard Derek is, and Stiles parts their lips with a wet smack to moan, long and loud.

 

”Yes, fuck, we need to get this show on the road,” he says, taking the opportunity to yank his t-shirt over his head, knocking his glasses askew. Derek should probably be working on the whole undressing thing too, but he gets distracted by how amazingly adorable Stiles looks, all ruffled with his glasses falling off, and he can't help but reach up to adjust them.

 

Stiles seems to realize his distraction, and hugs him close. ”You good? I mean... I know we waited a while, but... I can wait longer if you're not sure-”

 

Derek cuts him off with another kiss, because hell no, they're not stopping now, at least not for his sake. He's pretty sure he'll go nuts if he doesn't get to touch Stiles in all the places he's only dreamt of so far.

 

And _boy_ has Derek been dreaming.

 

”No. No more waiting,” he growls, and Stiles shivers deliciously.

 

”Damn, it probably makes me some kind of twink stereotype, but I really love that whole alpha male jock thing,” he purrs, and pulls Derek down for another kiss. It makes Derek hesitate, suddenly, because they haven't discussed this, and Derek had kinda hoped... but if Stiles isn't into it...

 

”What?” Stiles says against his lips, pulling away when Derek is too slow to respond. ”Seriously, anytime you wanna back out, no matter what kind of amazing dirty talk you got going, I swear, no judgment.”

 

”No matter what?” Derek can't help but ask, even though it's probably not what Stiles meant. But it still soothes him to see Stiles immediately turn fond, and reach up to pet his hair.

 

”No matter what. Even if you're like... mid-fucking me or something.”

 

Derek swallows, partly from the thrill of that particular mental image, but just as much from the question he feels burning his tongue. ”Even if... you're the one...” he trails off, because how are you supposed to ask these things? He's only had sex once before, with a girl, and there didn't seem to be much question about who did what back then.

 

Stiles is still petting him, now with a tiny frown on his face. ”If I'm... what?”

 

As much as Derek is aware he has trouble expressing himself sometimes he's not about to chicken out now when Stiles is looking at him so openly and adoringly, and Derek knows for a fact that even if it's something Stiles isn't into he won't be mean about it. So when it comes down to it, it's really a simple thing to ask.

 

”Would you... fuck me?” Derek asks, feeling incredibly stupid saying it out loud, but Stiles obviously doesn't think it's stupid, judging from how his eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

 

”Are you... what, really? But you're all...” he makes a weak sort of clawing motion, apparently indicating Derek's tendency to get growly and demanding when they make out, and Derek is aware of what he tends to project.

 

He bites his lip and tries not to move too much, because he's still pressed right up against Stiles in an amazing way, and he doesn't want to get distracted from his end goal. ”It's okay if you don't wanna-”

 

” _Hell no_ , stop talking, I _do_ wanna, like, so much!” Stiles babbles. ”I mean, I like both, I'm good with anything, really, and I'll try anything once, but oh my god, Derek, are you sure you- I mean, are you really-” He stops and obviously forces himself to take a breath. ”Sorry, this is just blowing my mind a little bit. Because you're... you know, _you_ ,” he says, gesturing to Derek's torso. Possibly the baseball logo on his t-shirt. ”And I know I'm being dumb, because I'm, like, the first one to stomp down on stereotyping, but... _wow_ ,” Stiles breathes, eyes darting around Derek's face. ”I mean... you really want my skinny self to do... _that?_ ”

 

It takes a moment for Derek to catch up to all the rambling, but then he realizes that Stiles _isn't saying no_. Joy and excitement rushes through his gut, and he gathers Stiles in his arms, rolling them over in one heave that leaves Stiles flailing on top of him until Derek yanks him down for another kiss.

 

”Yes,” he says into the kiss. ”I want you... on me. In me. Wanted it _forever_ ,” he moans, the ghost of many many lonely nights of frantically fingering himself making his voice shake.

 

” _Shit_ , okay, okay,” Stiles says, suddenly climbing off Derek, leaving him feeling bereft. But Stiles is barely on his feet before he's ripping off his jeans, and Derek manages to only waste a few seconds staring at all the gorgeous mole-dotted skin before starting on his own clothes.

 

He's working his jeans down his calves, and cursing himself for valuing a nice view for Stiles over accessibility, when Stiles crawls back on the bed, tube of lube and a condom in his hands, and Derek completely forgets what he was doing.

 

”Nothing's changed,” Stiles says hurriedly. ”Anytime you wanna back- _woah_.” He flails as Derek pulls him down for a hungry kiss, and it takes a long while of delicious making out before Derek remembers that his legs are still trapped in his jeans.

 

”Help me,” he begs, and Stiles blinks at him for a moment before getting what he means.

 

”Oh, sure, hold this.” He slaps the supplies into Derek's hand, and it feels like they're burning a hole in his damn palm from sheer significance.

 

Derek's jeans fly into the room somewhere, and then Stiles is back, long, beautiful body stretching out on top of Derek, just like he always wanted, and the lube drops out of his suddenly weak hand. ”God,” Derek sighs, feeling like he's about to implode from how intense and wonderful everything is. And they've barely even started yet.

 

”Is this-”

 

”Yes,” Derek interrupts, and then moans as Stiles cautiously ruts their hard cocks together. ”Yes, fuck.”

 

Stiles takes it as an invitation, and for long, glorious minutes it's just kissing and moving together, fire racing up Derek's spine with every sinuous move against him. So much skin and heat, silky touches and coarse hairs, and he feels like his brain cells are flying right out of his head.

 

”How do you wanna... do this?” Stiles asks, muffled against Derek's lips, because apparently moving away for long enough to talk is unbearable. Derek can relate, because he's imagined this so many times. And now that it's happening it's like it's almost too much, and he realizes that if he doesn't move things along it'll be over before anything he really _wants_ actually happens.

 

”Lemme just-,” he says, fumbling around for the lube. Stiles finds it for him and flicks it open, and he's about to pour some on his fingers, which... Derek has to stop that train of thought right there, or he'll never make it. ”No,” he snarls, snatching the lube from Stiles, and coating his own fingers instead. There's too much, and it leaves smears in a trail down his body as he wriggles around until he can get his legs out from under Stiles, and get a hand down to open himself up.

 

Stiles rolls off to the side a little, watching Derek like his eyes are about to roll out of his head. It's gratifying as hell, but Derek has to scrunch his own eyes shut unless he wants it all to be over _really_ soon. He's dreamt of this for way too long to not make it now.

 

He's got two fingers into himself when Stiles reaches down to grip his wrist. ”Dude, you're going way too fast, no way that's comfortable. Don't, like... hurt yourself for this,” he says hurriedly, and Derek can't help but burst out laughing.

 

”Stiles, I do this almost every night,” he says, gasping when Stiles' grip slackens and there's nothing holding the fingers back anymore. ”Thinking about you...” he twists a little, and it's the kind of thing that would get him off if he was touching his cock with as much as a fingertip. But he's determined to get there, and when he starts pushing for a third finger, Stiles suddenly bursts into action, fumbling around for the condom and dropping it twice as he tries to open it.

 

”Holy shit, oh my god,” he complains breathlessly, finally getting the damn thing out.

 

It makes Derek laugh again, and as much as he's imagined this, the laughter and joy is a complete surprise, and he has to pull Stiles in for another kiss. It's stupidly awkward, Derek with one hand trapped between his legs, Stiles with a condom half on, but it's also perfect in its stark reality, and Derek moans into the kiss.

 

It feels surprisingly natural for Derek, then, to ease his fingers out, and reach over to close his lube-slick hand around Stiles', unmoving on his cock, and following it down as the condom is finally rolled on properly. Their fingers tangle for a moment, and Stiles gasps loudly at the slick movements against him, so Derek pulls away, not about to risk not getting what he wants. “Fuck me,” he says- no, _demands_ , and Stiles proves to be perfectly obedient under the right circumstances.

 

“How- okay,” is all Stiles gets out before Derek manhandles him to lie between his legs, pulling them up by the knees in the most blatantly open invitation he can think of. “Oh fuck,” Stiles whispers, eyes stuck between Derek's legs in awe for a moment before he gets it together. “Okay, okay, you tell me if-”

 

“I will.”

 

“I'm serious, anything at all-”

 

“Stiles! Fuck. Me,” Derek growls, and then damn near cries, because it's finally happening. After months of cautious dating and chaste kissing, slowly progressing to heady make-out sessions and weeks of heavy petting, they're here, at long last.

 

Stiles moves in a little awkwardly, but then it's like he's finally able to focus on what he's doing, and it's sweet and slow torture as he pushes in, in, _in_ , where Derek wants him so desperately.

 

“Yes. Stiles, _yes_ ,” Derek sighs, hiking his legs higher, wanting as much as he can get. His own cock is almost an afterthought, unimportant in the greater scheme of things, though it does twitch almost shockingly when Stiles bottoms out, and lets himself drop down fully on top of him.

 

“Is this-

 

“Yes!”

 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles huffs, laughter in his voice. “I get it now. I got you,” he says, bracing his hands on either side of Derek and pulling back. The first thrust back inside is enough to make Derek's eyes roll back in his head, and he knows he's making a stupid and slack sex-face, but it can't be helped. It's _too good_. Just like he always knew it would be.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, open-mouthed and weak, and Stiles shudders above him.

 

“Holy shit, yes.”

 

“Yes,” Derek echoes, and sparks race up his spine, branching out towards his navel and his cock every time Stiles pushes back inside him. “Jesus, _yes_.”

 

There's not much of a rhythm, but it's maddening all the same, and Derek's arms shake until he gives up and lets his legs drop down so he can hold Stiles close instead. It forces him to thrust a little more shallow, but that's good too. Better, actually, making everything a little more bearable, so maybe it won't be over in five seconds flat.

 

“Derek... Derek, fuck, I can't-” Stiles stutters, and okay, maybe that whole holding back thing is overrated. Stiles' hips twitch, movements going frantic, and Derek clutches at him, making sure their bodies are as close as possible, which has the wonderful side-effect of trapping Derek's cock between them. Every thrust is a full-body stroke of his shaft, and he moans loudly, pretty much right into Stiles' face, but it's okay, because Stiles moans right back, going faster and faster until they're a mess of frantic bucking and rutting.

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Derek gasps, and Stiles manages to catch a few of the words in a kiss before he has to give up, and they end up panting slackly against each other, sharing air.

 

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles moans urgently, and Derek can feel how he goes still, his cock fattening just that little bit more before pushing in _hard_ , his whole body bowing in his attempt to get _deeper_.

 

“Oh, _god_ ,” Derek groans, shoving his hand down between them to catch up, and he barely gets a hold of himself before he's coming, spurting up between them, and clenching around Stiles hard enough to make him whimper.

 

Stiles clashes onto him as his arms give out, and Derek's hand would be trapped if not because it's so slick with lube and come that he can ease it out with no trouble. They need a shower so badly.

 

“Holy fucking shit, Derek,” Stiles wheezes into his ear, and Derek bursts out laughing. He laughs even more when Stiles hisses and scrambles up to get away from Derek, squeezing around his cock with every hiccup of laughter. “Fuck. Are you okay?” Stiles asks, and Derek howls with how amazing and funny it all is, tears streaming from his eyes. He finally gets a hold of himself, and heaves in a few pathetic gasps of air as Stiles eases down to lie next to him.

 

“Seriously, are you okay?” Stiles' voice is thick with concern, and Derek finally manages to get rid of the last giggles.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Amazing, actually,” he says, smiling dopily at Stiles who smiles right back at him, all flushed and bright-eyed.

 

“Okay. Okay, good,” Stiles says, and kisses him all softly, uncaring of how sticky and messy they are, making Derek feel all precious and loved. “You're a pushy as hell bottom, you know that, right?”

 

Derek snorts. “Yeah. Are you surprised?”

 

Stiles pretends to think about it for a second. “Hmm. Nah, not really. But it's my turn next time.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Maybe?!”

 

His outrage makes Derek laugh again, and it's perfect, it's just how it's supposed to be.

 

End.

 


End file.
